To Give and Receive
by WhiskeyTangoFoxtrot
Summary: This Christmas, Michael gives Padma something to help forget and Terry receives far more than he bargained for. A gift for Thanfiction, based on his Ravenclaws, for the Harry Potter Rare Pairs X-mas gift exchange. M for mature themes. One-shot


**Author's Notes: **Written for Thanfiction for Harry Potter's Rare Pairs Fic Exchange 2008. He requested a Michael/Padma/Terry/Parvati story, and this is what I came up with, short of a foursome. The versions of Michael and Terry are loosely based on Thanfiction's _Dumbledore's Army and the Year of Darkness_, and plot inspired by his one-shot _By Consensus._ Slight AU from DAYD, as Michael/Padma are not paired in his story. TF's version of Terry Boot practices Legilimency. Rated M for "MMM, SMUT!" -- some mature sexual content and magical voyeurism. Thanks so much to the Rare Pair Mods for beta-reading this.

Merry Christmas, TF! And to all my readers, consider this a present for being so patient waiting for updates on my other stories ("Massive fanfiction writer's block: I has it!"). I really appreciate it.

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_Some bloody Christmas!_

Michael Corner hopped off the last step of the staircase that led from the dormitories to the Ravenclaw common room. Christmas at Hogwarts.

He snorted bitterly.

Between the Carrows, Snape and the war, it was impossible to get into the spirit of the holiday.

Michael stopped walking, holding his breath. He saw her across the room, all alone, reclining on a couch. She stretched her arms out and yawned, her long black hair spilling over her back and shoulders.

"Padma?"

She turned around and smiled. "Michael." She propped her arm up on the back of the couch, her head resting on her bent elbow, and smiled lazily at him. "What? No Terry?"

"I'm meeting him in the library for Transfiguration," he grinned, but furrowed his brow at her as she snorted. "What?"

"Of course you're meeting him. You two're inseparable."

Michael stared at her face for a few quiet moments. Deciding Terry could wait, even though he was already over an hour late, he placed his book bag next to the couch and sat next to her, hoping to continue the conversation for a few moments.

"Christmas," Padma said with a shiver. "Doesn't feel much like the season of joy."

"I was thinking the same thing."

His eyes caught hers as she studied his face. She blinked for a long time, nodding quietly, as if she had made some sort of decision. But she didn't say a word. Testing the waters, Michael decided to break the silence.

"You studying hard?" He kept his voice low and soft. "If you want, you can come with me to the library."

She watched him for a few moments before she spoke again.

"Michael?"

"What?"

She regarded him quietly, her large, brown eyes searching his face, roaming his body. He thought he imagined a spark flicker in them as she looked at him. "I've been thinking."

"A Ravenclaw thinking? _Extraordinary_!"

She didn't respond to his feeble attempt at a joke but instead let her eyes fall to the floor. "I have all these thoughts about the war, Dumbledore, the Carrows. Students getting tortured, left and right. There's been so much pain all around us, even here at Hogwarts." She hugged herself with her arms. "I'm so tired of thinking about it, you know?"

He shifted uncomfortably. "Yeah. I know what you mean."

She looked at him. "And do you know where my mind goes when I don't want to think about everything that's going on? Do you know what's the one thing I can think about right now?"

He shook his head, sure she would say something profound, something deep and meaningful. That was Padma after all—

"I'm going to die a virgin."

Michael coughed awkwardly. "Wh-wh-_what_?"

She paused and gaped at him. "Oh Merlin! Did I really say that?" She giggled as she pressed her hands to her lips.

"Yeah. You did." He let the silence settle around them for a couple of seconds. "W-well, you know," he began, trying to compose himself, "there's a way that you can fix that." He grinned and wriggled his brow, hoping that his comment translated into flirting.

She looked at him and he looked at her—

Padma shot straight up and jerked on Michael's robes, forcing him to stand. She grabbed hold of his arm with an almost frenzied enthusiasm and dragged him towards one of the little studying cubicles on the opposite side of the common room.

She yanked him inside and shut the door just as the candles embedded in the wall sconces flickered to life. Michael gaped at her as she cast a couple of Locking and Sound-Muffling Charms.

"What're you doing, Padma?"

She jabbed her wand into her jeans and jumped up onto the small desk. "Corner, please don't make with the innocent act. I _know_ you know what to do when you're alone with a girl." Her voice was low and soft, almost husky.

Which gave him quite a thrill.

"Padma, I don't—"

She held up her hand and he stopped talking. "Look, it's just us here. No one else. Right now, there is nothing on the other side of these walls." She took his tie, wrapped it around her slender hand, and tugged on it gently.

"Nothing's stopping us." She blinked, but her gaze never faltered. "Do you like me?"

She continued pulling him to her, her full lips parting just so. Michael could only stare at her lips, plump and shiny in the candle-lit room. "Yeah, Padma, I do."

A little grin grew on the right side of her face. "Good," she said softly. "I want something."

He touched the tip of her nose with his. "You want what, exactly?"

"To forget. The war, the Carrows, Dumbledore's Army. Everything." She kissed his right cheek, "I want to do something," and she kissed the other, "that those bastards can't control."

She pulled away. "I want to feel something other than pain and fear."

He blinked slowly but kept his eyes fixed on her face. "You sure about this?"

Licking her lips, she shut her eyes and brought her hand around the back of his head, drawing him towards her.

Michael Corner had kissed quite a few girls over the years, but this was a different kiss. From Padma, he could feel an outpouring of passion that wasn't necessarily love but something baser, something buried deep within, growing hotter and more frenzied the longer the kiss continued.

"Pa-Padma," he said, his breath nearly failing him. "Are you sure?"

She said no words but instead reached for the first button of her shirt. Michael — unbelievably — reached up to stop her.

"No. Not until you tell me."

Their eyes locked onto each other's.

"Padma?"

She smiled. "Yes. Please."

He breathed out in relief as he moved forwards to embrace her.

~~~*~~~*~~~*~~~

Terry Boot hated waiting, even if it was for his best mate.

_Fuck!_

He slammed his quill down onto the table and let out a very annoyed breath. The git was almost three hours late; Terry was practically done with their Transfiguration assignment.

_Bastard!_

He shoved his books and parchments into his bag, but as he finished, a thought entered his head, unbidden and unwanted—

_What if the Carrows had him?_

It wasn't unreasonable. Michael was not an even-headed bloke; he could be as stupidly impulsive as any Gryffindor. Maybe he finally did something to piss off Amycus or Alecto or Snape; maybe they got him and took him to the dungeons, or chained him in the Great Hall, readying him to be whipped—

"Shit," Terry muttered.

_Legilimency?_

He thought that the reach of his mind might be strong enough to penetrate walls or towers or floors. To be honest, he probably couldn't do it with just anyone, as he had always practiced with Michael. Michael's mind was as familiar to him as his own. Thus, seeking him out, finding him, and reading his memories and emotions would be as easy to do as if Michael were standing right before him.

_Well, almost as easy._

_Theoretically._

It didn't matter; he had to do something to make sure he was all right.

Terry took in two deep breaths, making himself relax. He funnelled his mental focus and energy until he could focus on his best mate. And he pushed out, reaching around the stony crevasses of Hogwarts, searching for—

_Michael._

"_Legilimens—_"

—_Her legs, slender and supple, wrapped around his bare waist, his white shirt wrinkled and bunched up around his chest. They breathed together, their mouths pressed against each other's, and his hands cupped her breasts, stroking them in steady rhythm._

_Her fingers dug into his back as his thumbs touched sensitive skin._

"_G-Godric_! _Michael._" _Her breath caught in her throat. He knew it had because his mouth was there, sucking gently, nibbling softly as he continued to move down, and further down—_

"_Does it feel good?"_

_She exhaled heavily in response and clawed at him, her fingernails gripping his back. His hands moved her shirt apart and he lowered his head, replacing his hand with his mouth. He kissed her breasts, his lips and tongue moving, flicking and lavishing her body with each and every action. She let out a great yelp and one of her hands clamped over her mouth and the other pressed his head closer to her body. _

_He felt her other hand press him to her, and his body responded the only way it could, But when he brought his other hand up to her other breast, she screamed again and tightened her legs around his waist. He was immersed in her scent, her touch, and her soft skin. He could feel it all the way to his—_

"WHOAMAHGAW!"

Terry didn't even realize he had shot two feet back from his table. His eyes darted left and right, making sure no one had seen his freak-out. Only when he looked down did he notice both of his hands right on top of his groin.

And, of course, "Little Tiresius W. Boot". Fully – at – attention.

"Bugger! You've _got _to be kidding me."

Terry's head was still foggy from the mental gymnastics he had just performed. He picked his book bag off of the floor, using it to cover his ever-growing problem. He could sense that his connection with Michael's brain was still wide open—

Just as he reached the door leading out to the main library stacks, Terry was hit by a powerful wave of another memory. It flooded his head, nearly suffocating him with its intensity. He grasped the wall to steady himself, a cold sweat breaking out on his brow.

_His hands floated down her body, her shirt completely undone. She was shaking like a lace flower caught in a chilly breeze._

"_Are you okay? Do you want me to keep going?"_

_She pulled him by his tie. "Corner, if you stop _now, _I swear I'll AK you so hard, you'll be back in the Founder's Era!" She was out of breath and panting very hard. _

_He smirked while letting his hands linger on her legs. "Well, Padma." He spoke against her lips. "You know," he snickered a little bit and put his head on her shoulder, "I know that you want this, but I don't want to rush you, right?"_

_She narrowed her eyes, still continuing to inhale shakily. "What do you mean?"_

_He slid his hands around, so they touched her the inside of her thighs, swallowing to get control of his own nerves. "There are other things that we can do other than catch the Snitch."_

_She cocked an eyebrow at him._

"_How far have you gone with a bloke?"_

_She looked at him and responded shakily. "C-centre Hoop. Rupert Chambers. Sixth year, broom closet." _

_He nodded. "What did he do?"_

"_Mmm," she moaned as his hands crawled up further, right to the edge of her knickers. "Oh-hh, uh, h-he managed to, you know . . . touch a little—"_

"_He pet your kneazle, then?" His hand moved all the way, touching her through the thin cotton cloth. She sucked in a breath and again clawed at his shoulders._

"_Mmm-Mich-MICHAEL!" _

_He caught a quick glimpse of her face as he hooked his fingers into the band of her knickers and pulled them down. He smiled at her, hunger thick in his eyes, and proceeded to fall to his knees. _

"_Wh-what are you doing?"_

_He brought his hands around her bare waist. "You can't just go from centre hoop and stampede towards the Snitch, Padma." He kissed her thighs softly and pulled her lap towards him. "It's a process — step-by-step. And you haven't experienced what the left hoop feels like." _

_She whimpered. "You're n-not . . . Michael, you don't have t-to—"_

_He shrugged with his impossible smugness. "I want to, okay? 'Tis the season to give, right?" He paused for one long moment. "I – want – to." _

_His eyes lingered only long enough to watch her nod very quickly, and without another word, he pressed his face forward—_

"DECK THE HALLS WITH BOUGHS OF HOLLY! FAAH-LAH-LA-LA—!"

_CRASH!_

Metal clanged to the floor. Dazed and confused, Terry barely noticed that he had walked right into a suit of armour in front of a group of wizards singing Christmas carols at the top of their lungs.

"You clumsy fool!" one of the carollers exclaimed, his pointy beard and curled moustache twitching. "Do watch where you're going!"

"Uhhh . . ." Terry jumped and backed away, but he scrambled to regain his mental focus.

Michael. He had just entered Michael's head and . . . _and—_

Michael and Padma. Together. Doing a whole lot of things that did not include studying for N.E.W.T.s.

"M-Merlin!" Terry took another breath, but he could still feel the connection between him and Michael was still open.

He debated with himself for just a few seconds before focusing his mind once again on—

"_MICHAEL! MMM—!"_

_His head swirled back and forth as her legs spread out further. She writhed beneath his mouth, sending shocks through his own body. He licked, he sucked, and he intensified his rhythm as he continued to kiss her, caressing her as if his life depended on it. _

_There was only one thing that existed right now, and it was Padma Patil. He wanted to make damn sure she'd never forget this. _

_His hands found her belly, bare and tight and smooth like polished stone. Slowly, his hands inched up her torso. Padma bucked against his mouth._

_She screamed._

"_YESPLEASEMOREMOREMORE—!" _

"IT CAME UPON A MIDNIGHT CLEAR—" the carollers sang loudly. Terry pressed his forehead against the cool stone of the castle's walls—

_His hands cupped her breasts once again. With a deliberate rhythm, his thumbs rubbed them, mimicking what his tongue was doing to her below. He could feel her muscles tighten as he brought her closer . . . and closer._

_Her thighs clamped hard around his head and she moaned, making incoherent sounds, and breathing in long, languorous waves. He heard her, he felt her, and he knew she was getting closer—_

"Terry? Are you all right?"

He turned around as a hand lay on his shoulder. He saw Padma's face, startling him—

"_MICHAEL!" Her hips rocked into him but he did not stop. The longer he could keep doing this, the better after all. _

_Her hips rolled towards him with one great thrust and she let loose a wild cry, wanton and primal—_

"Terry?"

Before he knew it, Terry was kissing Padma, his hand grasping her hair, his lips desperate for contact with her. All around them, the carollers' voices grew louder and stronger.

"JINGLE BELLS! JINGLE BELLS! JINGLE ALL THE WAY!"

But she pushed away from him and smacked him. Several times. Hard.

Right across his chest.

"Ow – ow – ow!"

"Terry? What the _hell _was that?"

The mental connection with Michael fell away, withering under the furious eyes of Parvati Patil.

"_Parvati_? Merlin's Beard! I'm so sorry. I apologize! I don't know . . . I didn't mean to—!"

"I was just coming over here to make sure you were all right. I didn't—" _SMACK! —_ "Expect—" _SLAP! — "_To be manhandled!" She hit him hard again.

"OW! _OW_! Parvati!"

He accepted her punishment for several more minutes. "And don't _ever_ try anything like that again without my permission, Boot!"

He undoubtedly deserved it after all.

Once Parvati had satisfied herself that Terry had learned his lesson, she pivoted around and stormed away, muttering angrily that she needed to perfect a Bludgeoning Hex . . . "in case any more men around here got the wrong ideas! Don't care if you're in the D.A.!" Wincing and then breathing out in relief, he made his way towards Ravenclaw Tower.

Just before he stepped onto the spiral staircase that led back to his House, Terry reached out with his mind again. This time, however, he used his own voice, his mind coalescing around a single word. "_Michael?_"

There was a long pause—

"_Took you long enough. I've been waiting up here for about an hour._"

Terry rolled his eyes and started up the stairs. "_I'm not the one that that forgot all about Transfiguration!_"

"_Git. I know you saw Padma and I together—_"

He froze mid-step. "_You knew I was there?_"

"_Terry, give me a little credit. You were going to find out anyways—"_

Terry couldn't help but think something very quietly, as if struggling to keep it to himself.

"_What was that?_"

"_I said I'm sorry for, er, spying._"

There was a laugh and Terry swore he could hear Michael wink. "_Terry?_"

"_Yeah?_"

"_Happy Christmas, mate._"

_FIN_


End file.
